


Live to See

by MoiraiThanatoio



Series: Proverbs [3]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, Angsty Schmoop, Betrayal, M/M, Memory Alteration, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-22
Updated: 2012-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 22:54:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoiraiThanatoio/pseuds/MoiraiThanatoio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his rescue from Walter Gordon’s box, Nick still has a long road back to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live to See

He that can’t endure the bad, will not live to see the good. - Jewish Proverb

***

He was the only patient at this end of this floor. He may not be an officer, but he had been injured in the line of duty and they were taking no chances. Thus the need for the police guard, who wasn't directly outside the room, but close enough to ensure that no unauthorized persons entered.

The night nurse nodded politely to the officer on duty before stepping into the room. The door closed behind her with a subdued click. She was professional as she crossed to her patient and recorded his vitals. Her movements in changing the IV bag were brisk. When she had finished her duties, she stopped at the head of his bed and her business façade faded to soft affection.

She combed the hair back off his forehead with gentle fingers, making sure to avoid the still carefully bandaged bites. They said that hearing was the last sense to leave and the first sense to return in a comatose patient.

“Oh, Nicky,” she sighed. “We’re watching out for you. You know I’ll always be there to…”

***

“… take care of you.”

Sixteen-year-old Nick Stokes remained slumped on his sister’s couch, sullenly staring out the front window. His birthday present, a Ford F150, gleamed shiny blue in the parking lot. He’d come to Mary seeking comfort and understanding that he instinctually knew he wouldn’t find at home.

“I’m a freak,” he finally blurted out in a rush.

Mary leaned forward, shaking her head. “Nicky, you are not a freak.”

“But, I… I…”

“What could you possibly have done that would make you think that?”

He mumbled at first, ducking his head.

“Nicky, you know you can tell me anything or you wouldn’t be here.”

“I kissed a guy,” he admitted, looking like tears would force themselves through his teenage bravado.

Mary’s heart broke as she considered her brother. She knew his life from here on out wouldn’t be easy. He’d either have the grief of denying this impulse, or the trouble of acting on it. But he was still waiting for her advice.

“Liking to kiss guys, or both guys and girls, does not make you a freak.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Nicky. I’m sure. But you need to promise me something.”

Just like that, he was relieved and smiling again. “Anything, sis.”

“Don’t tell Mom or Dad.”

“But… why?”

“Because they wouldn’t understand.”

“If… If you’re sure.”

***

“Mary?”

The unexpected voice in the dark hospital room cause Mary Stokes, R.N. to startle, gasping a quick breath. She turned, hand to her chest, to face the speaker.

“Jesus, Gil… You’ll give a woman a heart attack.”

He seemed perplexed to see her. Quickly taking in her uniform and hospital identification, there were no rhetorical questions. He knew why she was at Nick’s side.

“When did you move to Las Vegas?”

“Last week,” she admitted. “I started the transfer after sending Nicky your letters, but only just started here at Desert Palms.”

He was speechless for a moment, but managed to stutter out, “You sent him my letters?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him from our father.”

Gil shook his head. “Mary, I… I really don’t know what to say.”

She’d taken a few hesitant steps towards him, reaching out. When he didn’t step back, she enfolded him in a warm, loving hug.

“I never wanted him to lose you. I always knew you’d be my favorite brother-in-law.”

Gil closed his eyes, overcome momentarily by the acceptance. He returned the embrace, holding onto the only member of the Stokes family who’d welcomed him with open arms. She finally eased back, wiping at her eyes.

“Who knew all this would come of him catching you speeding?”

It was an old joke and Gil played his part with the faintest grin. “I was not speeding.”

***

“Sir, the posted limit is fifty-five. I have you on radar at sixty-three. In the State of Texas, eight miles per hour over the limit qualifies as speeding.”

“Officer,” Gil paused to read the cop’s name off his uniform. “Stokes, I really must disagree.”

“That is your right, sir. I still need your license and registration.”

Grissom was frowning as he handed over the car’s rental agreement. Unthinkingly, he next passed Officer Stokes the folding wallet with his lab identification. He’d always kept his drivers license there for work purposes.

“Sir, is this supposed to impress me?”

Gil sighed, resisting the urge to smack his head against the steering wheel. He certainly hadn’t considered that interpretation of his affiliation.

“Officer, my license is behind it. Though you may certainly take my credentials to mean I do know what I’m talking about. Laser based radar recognition produce a false positive when the heat index passes one hundred and ten degrees.”

The City of Dallas police officer did not look impressed as he stepped back. “Please step out of the car, sir.”

Gil sighed, turning the car off to comply. It was a pity that someone so attractive was also such a stubborn pain.

***

Not caring how it was interpreted, Gil had been holding Nick’s hand on every hospital visit since he was first admitted.

“We do have posted visiting hours.”

Gil, unlike Mary earlier, didn’t startle as the doctor slipped into the room. He’d been expecting the nightly visit.

“Visiting hours that no one seems to expect me to follow.”

Dr. Joseph Boer, Chief of Emergency Medicine at Desert Palms and one of Gil’s oldest friends, ran his nightly check on the patient.

“I thought they were out of your hands when they left the ER?”

Joe turned a look on Grissom that had quelled many a linebacker during his college football days. “That’s not how it is when Thomas is being treated. I seem to recall you also didn’t object to my overseeing your ear surgeon, either. Why should I not give your lover the same consideration?”

“He’s not my lover,” was the automatically offered rebuttal.

Joe settled a hand on Gil’s shoulder, squeezing briefly. “He was once and you want him to be again, so I’ll take care of him for you.”

“When will he wake up?”

“When his body’s ready. When he does, he will need to carry an auto injector. This will have exacerbated his allergy.”

“The bites are fading already.”

“The advice of an entomologist is occasionally useful to a physician when treating insect toxins.”

Gil managed a faint, wry grin for his friend. “It’s always hard to believe someone can look so peaceful when they’ve suffered so much.”

“Stay at his side, talk to him,” Joe instructed. “Have faith, Gil. I can’t wait to see how wonderful you’ll…”

***

“… look together.”

“Thank you, Dean Rogers,” Grissom acknowledged gracefully. Neither he nor the man at his side was comfortable in their strict tuxedos. But the University of Texas – Dallas staff was being incredibly accommodating.

“And, Officer Stokes, isn’t it?” The Dean continued.

“Yes, sir,” Nick acknowledged, smiling around his champagne glass.

“Perhaps we can recruit you to persuade Dr. Grissom to make Dallas his new base of operations?”

Nick chuckled at his lover’s slight flush of embarrassment. “We’ll have to see about that, sir.”

The Dean laughed, well able to appreciate a politic response. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Officer Stokes. Gil,” he nodded before wandering off.

Grissom shook his head and slid his arm around his lover’s waist, palm resting on the opposite hip. “I hope the Dean didn’t make you uncomfortable, Nicky.”

Nick snorted softly. “Uncomfortable would have been my admitting I’ve already agreed to move to Vegas with you.”

Gil’s face softened into loving admiration as Nick smiled at him. They were absorbed in each other. But the flash bulb of a photograph broke the moment.

“Just lovely, sir.”

They turned to the student capturing the event for the university paper. She smiled, unrepentant in the face of irritation. “I’ll have a copy sent to your office, Professor Grissom.”

***

“I’m sorry, Ms. Sidle. They cannot accompany you any farther.”

Sara glanced from the officer blocking the hallway to Nick’s parents. She scowled, brow furrowing in confusion. The officer didn’t seem to be realizing he was mistaken. Bill and Jillian Stokes were stony faced.

“But they’re his parents,” she explained, as if to a two-year-old.

It was certainly the wrong tone to take. The officer didn’t move and, if possible, became even more immovable. “I won’t discuss this with you, Ms. Sidle. They are not permitted access to Mr. Stokes.”

Bill shook off his wife’s cautioning hand. The discoloration of his black eye had finally faded. His nose hadn’t broken, but it had been close. “This nonsense has gone on long enough. I demand to see my son!”

For the first time since they arrived, the officer seemed almost ready to smile. He didn’t bother responding directly. He merely lifted the radio at his side. “Security, Mr. Stokes will need an escort out,” he paused, letting the grin break out as he added, “again.”

Not about to wait for the indignity of the escort, Bill Stokes turned on his heel and stalked off. His wife shot an apologetic look at Sara and the officer before hurrying after her husband.

“Cancel that request.”

Sara watched them leave, perplexed. She finally turned on the officer as a convenient target. “What is your problem?! First you let Nick get taken because you take your eyes off the scene and now you run off his parents?!”

“Look, Sidle,” he retorted roughly. “I’ve already had my ass chewed for that, so back off. I didn’t make the decision to ban them – Grissom did. If you have a problem, take it up with him.”

Sara snorted, walking off in disgust without even the vaguest assurance that she would indeed be taking this up with Gil. It was a travesty, not even letting the Stokeses visit their son.

She calmed somewhat as she entered Nick’s room. It was a hushed atmosphere and she flinched as the chair squeaked when she shifted it.

“Hey, Nick,” Sara started, uncomfortable with the silence. “It’s me again. I tried to bring your folks with me. They seem like nice people.”

***

“They’re not.”

“Nicky, they’re your parents.”

“I just don’t want you to be surprised. They’re great; if you have something they want or are doing everything their way.”

Gil glanced across the interior of the vehicle. Nick’s hands were tense on the steering wheel. His knuckles showed white against his tanned skin.

“This is about more than the age difference.”

Nick’s silence confirmed what hadn’t quite been a question. Gil sighed, doubting.

“Nicky, do your parents know you’re bisexual?”

“I don’t know,” Nick admitted after a long pause. “After high school, I never tried to hide it. But they’re really good at ignoring things they don’t like.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

Nick had turned into a widely spaced neighborhood of very large homes set far back from the road behind stylized ranch gates. “Yes, I do.”

“Nicky…”

“I am moving to Nevada to be with you. They can ignore me for the rest of my life after this. They will not make me ashamed of the man or life I’ve chosen.”

When the car finally came to a stop at the end of a long gravel drive, Nick turned off the ignition but made no move to exit the automobile. Gil turned in his seat after unbuckling. Baldly, not caring a whit about any of the Stokeses other than Nick, he asked, “You’re sure?”

Nick nodded tightly, staring numbly at the house. Gil slipped the keys from the ignition into his pocket. If his lover was this upset at the start of their visit, then it wasn’t good to plan on him being calm enough to drive home. He reached out, carding his fingers through the long hair at the nape of Nick’s neck.

“Deep breath, my Nicky.”

***

He had a gap between cases. Rather than taking a pleasant lunch break, he went to see his best friend.

“Hey, Nick.”

Warrick settled heavily into the chair next to the hospital bed. He sighed, leaning forward and dropping his wrists to drape over his knees.

“Man, I hate to pressure you… but you have to wake up. I don’t claim to know why but Grissom’s falling apart and the lab is getting ready to follow.”

He dropped his voice, nearly whispering now. “You’re my friend, Nick. Even if you had or have something going on with the boss, I don’t care.”

His pager suddenly went off. It scrolled the details of a crime scene and Warrick stood. Feeling the need to add one final point, he leaned over Nick. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, man. So wake the hell up.”

***

Nick was still in his patrol uniform, seated at the kitchen table and brooding. He’d brewed a pot of some foreign label tea that would have never seen the inside of his apartment if it wasn't for his lover. It wasn’t to drink. He’d not yet learned to ‘appreciate’ Gil’s prissy teas. No, it was for comfort after a damn long day.

The door clicked open and closed behind him. The faint jingling of keys and thump of a briefcase preceded Gil into the room.

“I see I don’t need to ask how your day went,” Grissom observed. He carried a cup to the table and poured for himself as Nick continued to sip his beer.

Nick didn’t break his silence at first, letting them both decompress just a little longer. Gil didn’t press him, having learned that his lover would speak up when he was ready.

“I have a new partner,” Nick finally shared.

Gil nodded, not immediately seeing why this resulted in such depression. “Mike was promoted?”

“No,” Nick bit out. “He just didn’t want to work with a fag.”

Setting the teacup down, Gil felt the scowl growing on his face. “And your new partner?”

“Chuck.”

Nodding again, Gil finally knew the cause of Nick’s foul mood. Chuck was a rookie, one that had made the news on his way through the Academy by jostling for benefits for his male life partner. There wasn’t much he could say to a discriminatory yet common practice.

“I don’t even know why I’m a cop anymore.”

“Because you love it… and you’re making a difference.”

“How long before my backup doesn’t arrive… or takes just a few minutes too long? How long before Chuck or I end up hurt or dead because of it?”

“We can only hope that doesn’t happen.”

Nick snorted, his now empty bottle standing on the table in front of him.

“I know it’s hard, Nicky love, but you’re a damn fine cop. You’d be brilliant as a detective,” Gil paused, “or in forensics.”

Nick met the steady gaze and smiled slightly. “Maybe it’s time for a shift in career.”

***

It was growing increasingly difficult to see her baby brother so still and silent. Nick had always been full of life – vibrant – with the intensity of his joy in each day. Now, other than the pulse and purr of machinery, he was as motionless as a carved sepulcher.

“There are a lot of people out here who love you, Nicky.”

His forehead was cool beneath Mary’s palm. He’d needed a haircut when he’d come in. Motionless, he looked positively shaggy. Mary had turned away to complete her evening rounds. She felt the change in the room and seconds later heard the faint, gravelly voice.

“Mary?”

Spinning in place, she rushed back to his bedside. Sisterly and nursing instincts clashed within her. Taking his hand, she hit the call button that would send a physician to the room as a supplement to her presence.

“Just lie still, Nicky. Your doctor will be here soon.”

Nick’s face twitched in a grimace. His eyes were barely open, glazed with a mental distance. “Call Gil, sis. He’ll worry.”

Mary smiled and blinked away the moisture growing in her eyes. “He’ll be here soon. He’s barely left your side.”

There was a shiver to the sheet atop him as he attempted to shift his position and failed. The muscles didn’t immediately respond, rusty from disuse. Nick groaned at the sensation. “Should my whole body hurt?”

“There was a lot of trauma, Nicky.”

Nick blinked his eyes fully open but they still didn’t focus. “How many times?”

“What do you mean?”

“How many times did he shoot me?”

Mary leaned in as Nick’s voice grew fainter. “You weren’t shot,” she attempted to reassure.

Nick’s head shifted restlessly, prompting a new grimace. “Supposed to go to Vegas.”

“Nicky.”

“Gil,” he murmured, sinking back into unconsciousness.

***

His last case had been difficult and draining. Despite it being a bright morning and his body yearning for sleep, Gil made his daily trek to the hospital. Surprisingly, there were two men already in the room.

“Joe,” Gil nodded slightly to Nick’s physician. “Tom,” he inquired with a tilt of his head as the reason behind the other man’s presence.

Dr. Thomas Franks stepped away from his life partner to greet his long-time friend. “Nick woke up for a short while last night,” he explained. “Joe asked me to stop in and get my name down as the official consultant.”

“He woke up?” Gil asked, stuck on that point.

“For a few moments only,” Dr. Boer cautioned. “But this is a good sign,” he added.

“Who…” Gil began to ask but was interrupted. There were downsides to a multi-decade friendship. Having your questions answered before you could truly ask them was a frustrating example.

“Mary,” Joe provided. “Nurse Pauls. She paged me immediately.”

Grissom nodded absently in understanding. So that was how Mary had managed to treat her brother… She was still using her husband’s name. He moved to Nick’s side, taking his hand. “That’s good.”

The other two were quiet for an extended moment, allowing Gil to reconnect with the silent man. His silence was broken as Nick’s eyelashes fluttered and he managed in a hoarse whisper, “Gris?”

Gil’s hand tightened spasmodically on the fingers in his grasp. He leaned over, noticing as Joe moved to the bed and began measuring vitals. “I’m right here, Nicky.”

Nick blinked, trying to focus. “He threw me out the window.”

Gil frowned and glanced up. Thomas shook his head to halt Grissom’s instinctual urge to correct the information.

“You’re going to be okay, Nicky,” Grissom finally offered.

The answer seemed satisfactory. Nick managed a vague attempt at a nod before his eyes slipped closed once more. Gil made an aborted noise of frustration, taking comfort from the hand Thomas rested on his shoulder.

“Do you recognize the event to which he referred?”

Gil’s glasses pushed up as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Case a few years back. The suspect threw him out of a second story window.”

“Here in Las Vegas?”

“Yes.” Gil’s eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion as he focused. “Why?”

Joe answered, notating Nick’s patient record. “When he first woke, he believed himself recovering from a shooting in Dallas. I don’t need to explain how little we really know about the brain, but it does appear he’s moving in the right direction.”

“Tom?”

Dr. Franks sighed at the hopeful gleam in Gil’s eyes. “His memory was fractured before… I can’t really say what will happen. As with all head injuries, we’re really caught in a wait and see situation.”

***

Letting himself through the front door, Gil’s shoulders slumped as the door closed behind him. He shuddered with emotion as his keys dropped into his jacket pocket. The hand he passed over his face was shaking.

Gil drew a deep breath and tried to compose himself. It didn’t work here in the protective sanctuary of his home. His coworkers would be shocked at the obvious grief, worry, and faint hope chasing across his face.

“You’re too old for this, Gilbert,” he chastised himself.

Finally shoving off his front door, he ignored the kitchen and his non-existent appetite for the lure of sleep. His bedroom was dim, the blackout blinds never lifted from the window. Rumpled sheets encouraged him back to that comfortable nest.

Gil dropped his clothes where he stood, taking care only with his jacket. With its wallet and keys, he draped it over the straight backed chair near his dressed. There were never any other occupants in this residence. Thus, no one to object to his nude or nearly so meanderings.

He stared at the grim expression reflected by his bathroom mirror. The usual ablutions took only moments. Gil frowned, his doppelganger duplicating every twitch.

“You’re too old to be moping like a teenage girl.”

His mirrored self didn’t look convinced. He’d carried this particular torch for a long time. It had been seven, nearly eight years, since he’d first met Nicholas Stokes. Gil scrubbed at his face again and turned away from the mirror.

He laid atop his bedcovers, silent, resigned. The time had stretched. He hadn’t been chaste. He’d dated, he’d fucked, both men and women. But he hadn’t been able to stop loving the one man who, it certainly seemed, would always haunt him.

Flinching guiltily even in the quiet of his room, Gil slid his hand down over his abdomen and through his pubic hair. Mind bright with memories of a strong young hand tanned dark by the Dallas sun doing precisely this, he moaned a single word as he stroked.

“Nicky.”

***

When you worked at night and slept all day, being awoken was particularly jarring. It took Gil a few minutes to identify the sound of his cell phone’s trill.

“Grissom,” he finally muttered huskily into the phone. The person on the other end couldn’t see him nod, but they could hear his sigh.

“I’ll be right there.”

***

The nurse studiously ignored him and the usual police guard was absent. Gil’s palm went flat against the door to Nick’s hospital room. Even here, he could hear the argument occurring inside. Stepping in, the voices became immediately clearer.

“You understand that this is distinctly in conflict with my advice?”

Nick was sitting up, rubbing at the bruised skin where his IV had punctured. “Doc, I appreciate your care, but I’m not staying in this hospital.”

Neither had yet noticed Grissom’s arrival as the dayshift doctor scowled at the patient. “Mr. Stokes, I do not have to release you. I can place a nurse in this room to make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

The stubborn expression on Nick’s face made it clear how he felt about that thought. Gil cleared his throat, making his presence known. Nick’s clear look of relief was both surprising and pleasing.

“Ah, Dr. Grissom,” the physician acknowledged in relief. “Thank you for coming so quickly. Perhaps you can talk some sense into Mr. Stokes.”

Gil looked at Nick for a long moment, evaluating. “Doctor… Is there any physical reason to keep him?”

The physician was stunned for a moment. Then, resigned, he turned to his patient. Nick was repressing the smugness of a man who had heard exactly what he’d hoped to hear.

“Mr. Stokes, physically you appear to be fine. However, considering the circumstances, I will sign this release only if you agree to remain in Dr. Grissom’s care for the next week.”

***

Gil settled into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors to avoid looking at his passenger. “I don’t have a guest room.”

“I do,” Nick responded softly. “If you don’t mind staying at my place for a while… or your couch is fine.”

He couldn’t help himself as he chuckled. “Nicky, my couch is a lot shorter than you.”

***

“It’s late, I should go.”

“Stay.”

Nick’s eyes told Gil that the younger man was serious, but he shook his head brusquely. Attempting a grin, he commented, “Your couch is too short for me.”

“Then don’t sleep on the couch.”

The dark eyes were hot with the unspoken invitation. But this was too new, too tender, for misunderstandings.

“Nick… We’ve only known each other…”

“I don’t care. Stay here tonight. Stay with me.”

“Nick.”

The Dallas police officer moved in close, the buttons of his shirt catching against the zip on Gil’s leather jacket. Dinner and a movie, casual companionship, the hint of something more… had become something more.

“Evidence doesn’t lie, or so you say, Professor. Why aren’t you taking what I’m offering?”

Gil felt the breath ease out of him as he resisted the urge to claim the lips just in front of him. They had kissed before, but this would have a deeper meaning. “I truly enjoy your company, Nick… but I’m at a point in my life where I’m not looking for a fling.”

“Who said I was?”

Nick’s response was all it took. Gil’s hands grasped his hips, flexing on the body-warmed denim. They explored the familiar territory of lips, tongue, teeth, as it deepened into the promise of a much more physical interaction.

***

Nick turned in his seat, the first hint of a real smile crossing his face since he was taken by Walter Gordon. “My house wasn’t a mess before but I’m not looking forward to opening the fridge.”

Gil eased the SUV into traffic, noting that Nick flinched at the light before slipping on his sunglasses. “I believe Greg emptied the perishables.”

“So much for my clean house,” Nick snorted. He let the easy comfort drift over the vehicle. “Gil,” he finally inquired softly.

Grissom’s hands tightened on the wheel for an instant. “Yes, Nick?” he answered, tense.

“I want you to take me to see Kelly Gordon.”

A break in traffic gave Gil the opportunity to pull to the side of the road. Nick waited as the older man counted with the base movement of his lips before turning in the seat. They both slipped their sunglasses off, eyes meeting in a moment of connection.

Gil turned away, restarting the vehicle. “Okay,” he agreed as he eased them back into traffic. “But I’m going in with you.”


End file.
